Hymn of a Crow
by Pensez-a-Erik
Summary: She was lonely and afraid. He was abandoned and hurting. How will fate connect these two lost souls to one another? Phantom, but with birds! Please R&R.
1. Introduction

**This fanfiction is** ** _not_** **going to be very long. Also, it's not very realistic to how birds interact on purpose.**

 **But yay! Phantom of the Opera but with birds! (and other plot changes) In case you can't figure it out, Songbird (or the Chickadee, as she is sometimes called,) is Christine. I couldn't quite use their real names, but I hope that I make who is who obvious. If you have any questions, just ask!**

 **On with the show.**

* * *

It was warm out.

Not the horrible, sweltering heat that drove all sensible furry beings (and furless) into their respective homes, but the comfortable, sunny temperature that fought off chilliness yet still allowed wisps of wind to blow across.

It was the perfect morning, as so it seemed.

The neighborhood wasn't too big, the block only fitting three houses per side, with a small alley nestled behind, well-hidden.

In the middle of it all was a set of birdfeeders. In all honesty, there were only three of them. One, copper brown, one was green, and the last was what had originally been intended to be used as a birdbath, but was now filled with birdfeed. It was very modest, and not the most pretty spot in the neighborhood. Seeds were scattered below, giving ground to small, growing sunflowers that barely reached the belly of a robin.

No, the birdfeeders weren't fancy by any means, but to the users of the feeders, it was a _palace._

Early morning was the most popular time, when all the avifauna of the neighborhood typically ate, twittering amongst themselves.

That was the norm.

But, the little songbird had never really conformed to what was the 'norm' in her home, had she?

The Chickadee ruffled her feathers, glancing from bird to bird. A group of sparrows were at the yellow feeder, picking fights with one another. _Typical,_ she sighed inwardly. _They can't go a day without gouging some poor bird's eye out or another._ The quiet songbird had never quite seen the need to turn to violence, instead choosing to avoid her feathered neighbors altogether.

Another chickadee landed beside her on a branch, puffing out her chest exuberantly. "Hey!" the newcomer gasped, her eyes widening. The Songbird grinned. It was clear that her friend (her only friend, too,) was bursting at the seams with gossip. _Soleil,_ as her friend was nicknamed, was known as the chattiest bird in the area. It was only fitting that the meekest black-capped chickadee had ended up befriending the most extroverted.

" _So,_ you know Relli, right? The big cardinal who flew in recently? Well, early she came in to grab something to eat AND she was holding her wing oddly, like, over her head 'an stuff and I went up to her and asked 'hey, what's with your wing?' and she didn't respond at first but then…"

The Songbird knew that Soleil was still twittering nonstop about the cardinal, but her attention was turned elsewhere by the sound of a familiar voice. Seated on the curve of the makeshift platform was a sparrow, slightly large for his size. He was recognized as Buck, which she had once been told was another word for 'deer,' (not that she knew what 'deer' was.)

Yet still, he told everyone to call him by that nickname. The chickadee wasn't one for nicknames, much rather preferring others call her simply 'chickadee,' or her favorite, 'songbird.'

"Friend?" Soleil leaned forward, tearing Songbird from her thoughts.

"Did you catch what I said?" she leaned forward even more. Songbird glanced fleetingly at her talons. _If she leans forward any more, she's going to fall._

"Afraid not. Repeat, please?"

Soleil gave a blatantly fake exasperated gasp. "I SAID, that Relli was _molting!"_

"Ah, yes, some birds _do_ do that." Songbird tilted her head.

Soleil let out a gasp. "I hope I sure don't! I would DIE if anything like that happened to me."

Songbird chuckled. "Well, I hope that you're over exaggerating." She turned, pointing with a wing to where a small group had gathered around Buck. "C'mon, let's go see what terrible tale Buck is spinning this time."

The two quickly flew over, landing on the edge behind a pair of small mourning doves.

"You see, the Raven then turned, glaring at the frightened mother and father, before demanding to see their firstborn hatchling. Terrified, a small fletchling shuffled forward, so young that he had barely any feathers growing. With a roar the Raven grasped their youngling, tearing off into the sky. Once he reached his home he devoured the infant _alive,_ drinking his blood and eating him!"

A cry erupted among the youngest in the crowd. The taller of the mourning doves nudged the other and took off into the sky, leaving the feeder vibrating for a few short minutes.

"But I digress," Buck continued. "The Raven is still alive-he lives FOREVER. Keep an eye on your young ones, mothers! Or he might swoop down and eat them!" he waved his wings on the last word, letting out a 'caw' that was a bad mimic of a Raven's cry. Although the story was most likely fake, the chickadee felt her feathers ruffling at the idea.

She had even heard the fable before, it was nothing new. Almost frightened, she glanced up at the tall tree that supposedly housed the terrible being.

She could almost imagine a black pair of eyes gleaming back at her, but she dismissed it as her imagination, flapping her wings and taking off in the direction of her own nest.

* * *

 **Tell me your thoughts!**


	2. The Crow

**My apologies for the delay! I have been dreadfully busy, and Hymn of a Crow had to be put on the sidelines. Not to mention, working on two fanfictions at the same time is harder than I would have thought.**

 **Without further ado, here's _Part One!_**

* * *

Ever since he had been old enough to leave the nest, he had been on his own.

Not that he wished for any companionship. How could you miss something you've never had?

Once seeing his ugliness, the odd, irregularly colored patches of skin and the lack of feathers on said patches, his mother had kicked him from the nest.

He could still remember her taunts. " _I hope you snap your neck and die, you vile monster!"_

Not that it injured him, not anymore. Of course it had hurt at the time, but he hadn't thought much of it. He deserved it. Weren't all mothers like that? Didn't all mothers wish their hatchlings dead?

Indeed, he was _much_ better off on his own.

And so, once he had settled down and made himself comfortable, he had withdrawn considerably from the nearby society. It was more as doing a favor for them than him. _He_ could handle being around other birds, no matter how they looked. _They_ could not.

Nobody deserved to see the hideousness that was defined as his face.

He didn't need anyone, anyways.

Rain pounded hard onto the outside gravel, splashing against overhead branches and occasionally dripping into his nest. From his vantage point he could see the birds as the flew away from the feeders, leaving them empty and most importantly, _alone._

Crow hadn't had the chance to eat in what seemed like forever, his belly growling as he swooped down, settling precariously on the metal bar that the largest feeder was hung on. As he leaned forward to take a mouthful, something began yapping _very_ loudly behind him.

Smothering a groan, Crow turned to face the creature that had the audacity to disturb his meal.

The dog was small and fat, it's tiny tail held high in the air, it's brown muzzle shoved through a hole in the chicken wire that prevented the tiny log-with-legs to waddled after him. He let out a snort. Chicken wire was typically used on his flightless cousins, but he found that it suited the mutt as well. He supposed he could see the similarities between poultry and dog, and why the humans decided to use the same technique on it.

Crow flew a little ways forward, landing on the wire. The dog, by now, was howling as loud as it could, growling and baring its teeth (what he assumed was supposed to be fearsomely) at him. Flapping his wings, he let out a loud _caw._ The miniscule mutt scrambled back, whining. Within moments it had disappeared back into the house. The Crow took a moment to revel in his small victory, before turning and taking off into the sky.

Perching on the edge of his nest and shaking the water from his fur the best he could, he glanced at his home. It wasn't much, just a small nest with a variety of colorful trinkets he had collected scattered among the fluffy down he used as bedding.

It wasn't much, but at least it was something.

 _XXxxXX_

Sitting on the white picket fence, the chickadee surveyed the yard. Directly across was the birdfeeders (where Soleil and all the others were,) and while it would only take a few moments to flap her way across, she found herself unable to move herself from her spot.

Before her stood the largest, angriest dog she had _ever_ seen. This one was quite a bit bigger than the fat mongrel from the right of the feeders, and when this dog leapt up, putting her front paws up on the fence and rattling it, the chickadee let out a loud alarm call, and hurtled herself off.

The Songbird could feel the dog's breath as it barked and snapped after her, with deep _woofs._ Her small wings beat against the wind, propelling her forwards until she found herself safe on the other side of the fence. A human came out, yelling at the dog before hauling it in.

 _You're safe,_ she kept repeating to herself. _You're safe._

Her heart beat frantically in her chest as she tried to get her ruffled feathers to lay flat. Soleil appeared at her side, eyes wide. "Oh! Are you alright?"

Unable to get herself to speak, she nodded, numbly. Around her, other birds murmured nervously to themselves. "That was a close call," a young sparrow gasped, shivering. "I thought that dog was going to get you!"

Indeed, the little songbird had almost thought that she would be the hound's next meal for a few petrifying moments. Finding her tongue once more, she glanced over at her friend. "I don't think I have much of an appetite, not after that," she said dryly. Soleil shrugged, still looking concerned. "You're sure? The sparrow was right, I thought the dog was going to get you, too."

The chickadee let out a small, humorless laugh. "I'm _much_ quicker than a mangy mutt. I would've outflied it any day."

"Sure," a voice snorted from behind. Buck sauntered over from his branch, flexing his wings. "That's what they always say. Anyway, since you've recovered, I want to tell another story."

Songbird smothered a groan. _Another?_

Ignoring her, the sparrow continued. "So, one day there was this little chickadee that was flying about, minding her own business as she went to get her meal." he glanced over at the songbird, and she struggled to smooth her ruffled feathers. She would _not_ let him see she was unnerved by his story.

"Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere, the Raven swooped down and grabbed her in his stone-strong grip, flying off into the air. Her shrieks echoed throughout the field as he took her away."

Flicking his beak and narrowing his eyes at the gathering crowd, he kept on chirping. "He sold her to a dog in exchange for dog teeth, which was ripped right from the mutts mouth! He poked holes through the fangs with his beak, stringing them into a necklace using human hair, which he got from a human _that he killed, himself!_ I know this is all true, because I saw it WITH MY OWN EYES!"

Watching smugly from his vantage point above the other birds, Buck failed to notice Songbird's snort. It seemed that with every fable he told, they got more and more obviously _fake._ A raven (no matter how evil,) couldn't kill a human, of all beings. It was preposterous!

"Come on, Soleil, lets go. You realize Buck is lying, right?"

Soleil blinked, looking at her with wide eyes. "Oh, uh, sure. Right. Should we head home? Lets head home."

As they prepared to depart, Songbird glanced back up at Buck, who was meeting her gaze with an unreadable expression. He hopped down, coming close and leaning in. "You'd better watch out, little bird. The Raven is _always_ watching. He's always ready to snatch you up, just like he did to the other little chickadee!"

* * *

 **What did you think of our dear Crow (Erik's) introduction?**

 **Buck (Buquet's) story?**

 **The Songbird (Christine's) close call?**


	3. The Chickadee

**I'm sorry it's so short, I'm wrapped up between working on this and Love Never Lies (which I'm going to shamelessly promote, here) so working on chapters is a bit difficult. The next one will be longer, I** ** _promise._**

"You don't truly believe what that feather-brain is spouting, right?" Soleil glanced at the retreating back of Buck, her eyes narrowed. Their wings beat in tandem against the soft wind as they propelled away from the feeders, towards an alley in the back. The road was crumbly and not at all good for the odd machines the people drove done, often scattering concrete throughout the nearby yards.

For the birds, however, it was a different story. The potholes would fill with water when it rained, making the spots great for bathing and drinking. The largest of the flooded potholes was where the two were headed now.

The chickadee hummed noncommittally, swooping down to sit before the pool. Two sparrows gave her an ugly look as she landed a little too close for comfort. She ignored them.

The water was a tad bit murky from sitting in the dirt all day, but it mattered none to the Songbird as she drank her fill, relishing the taste of the coldness. Beside her, Soleil landed, glancing around. The other chickadee hopped from one foot to the other, looking rather anxious.

Songbird paused, blinking at her friend. "Are you alright?"  
"Uh, yeah," she swallowed. "That reminds me, did you hear about this new bird?"

"New bird?" Songbird echoed. "I wasn't aware anybody kept track of who came and who left."

"Of course not, but this one's _different._ He's as gold as the sunshine, and I heard he's ASTONISHINGLY handsome!" the talkative chickadee replied, her eyes lighting up. Songbird only tilted her head. "Is that so?"

Soleil nodded. "You really ought to meet him. You're so lonely, Songbird. You need someone to make you happy, even if it is for a little bit. I'm not sure how long this one'll stick around, not with winter approaching."

Songbird glanced up, her friend was partially correct. Over the span of a few days, it had gotten terribly chilly. Already she could see the leaves turning shades of red and orange. _Not long,_ she paused, thinking, _before it snows._

"I suppose, but Soleil, I'm not interested. I don't need any male bird to make me happy. Besides, you're right, he'll probably leave soon enough. It wouldn't be worth it to meet someone just to see them fly off, never to return."

Her friend let out a snort. "Narcissist."

"Am not!" the chickadee retorted.

"Are too!"

And thus the topic was turned, and the two chickadees thought nothing of it.

XXxxXX

Early next morning, Songbird was settled at one of the feeders, picking through the small seeds. It was late enough that most birds had already eaten their fill, and Buck had yet to rear his head, another gruesome story on the tip of his tongue. She was grateful for the momentary silence, finding a particularly satisfying hulled sunflower seed. Grabbing it in her beak, she flew to a nearby bush to enjoy it.

A moment later, the bush bent slightly beneath her feet. Soleil landed beside her, shaking her feathers to puff them out. "It's cold out," the extroverted bird muttered. Songbird nodded, counting the number of birds at the feeders. She much rather preferred them being empty when she grabbed her meal.

"Songbird, you wanna do a bet?"

Songbird tilted her head, turning to look at her friend. "Depends. Why?"

Soleil shrugged her wings. "I'm bored. Anyway, if you can go up to the Raven's home and say hello, without dying, I'll get you a glob full of that brown peanut-y stuff you like so much!"

"And if I don't?" she inquired.

"Then you have to go and get ME some of the brown stuff," she chirped in response, her beak tilted up. Songbird sighed, glancing upwards towards the tallest tree. It seemed very intimidating and loomed over the two small birds.

"No way!" she squeaked. "Isn't he evil? I really don't feel like getting my neck slit at the moment, Soleil. Besides, h-he's probably not home, or wouldn't answer my calls-"

Suddenly a wing was slapped against her beak, bumping painfully into her eyes. "Ow!" she mumbled through the feathers. She glared at her friend. Soleil, however, wasn't paying attention. The other chickadee's attention was instead trained to a dark spot a few paces away.

Suddenly, the shadow moved.

It wasn't a shadow, either. It was a _bird._ He was nudging a few sunflower seeds onto a leaf, before grasping the stem and tying it all together. He grabbed the peculiar contraption in his beak, widening his broad, huge wings.

"The _Raven,"_ Songbird gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

His head jerked up, and two ice blue eyes met hers.


End file.
